


And the Stars Shone on Them

by lechatnoir



Series: Blood Smiles and Alabaster Hearts [4]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: F/F, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lechatnoir/pseuds/lechatnoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on a anon prompt from tumblr : Tarantism - the urge to overcome melancholy by dancing.</p>
<p>In which, there are five little doves, and hands clasp together , with no one but the sky to watch them</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the Stars Shone on Them

**Author's Note:**

> also up on tumblr uwu
> 
> chrysanthemumskies @ tumblr

I.

There is something like a quiet rage that courses through them - there are old cold stones , battering ghosts that whisper hums in the walls of the Republic - that cast aside old marbles and chess pieces, with the scent of burnt wood and old wine - and yet there are ghosts, that howl and claw in the hearts and eyes of the Romans - silently watching, silently praying.

They burn down the arena - count the stars, burn the bodies. 

Watch as the woodwork collapses - and then they see Aurelia fight and die - fluttering and sputtering, with the blood clogging up her lungs and it is all that they can do but watch and wonder why Death seems to favor their own rather than the Romans . 

 

They wonder, and it is cold winter winds and old forests with hands that reach out to grab and drown and drag into the depths of the afterlife - but they fight on, wine coursing through their blood, arrows whizzing through the misty winds that watch them from the mountain tops.

Their Diana falls - willow winds and olive skin but she falls a warrior’s death, and there are she-wolves that rise and tear at the Romans in retaliation , and that is how they dance, quietly and furiously, with all the winds of the mountains to guide them.

It is gold scepters engulfed in blood and the roaring cries of free men and women.

The sun sets, and the night falls. 

 

And so, they live to see one day more. 

Ii. 

It’s burning wine down her throat but Saxa thinks it’s nothing more than nectar or ambrosia, and she can only laugh as the rebels make camp, divide the work up among themselves and huddle in circles - crouched around fires and old songs on the tips of their tongues.

Someone starts to whistle, while someone else taps out an old song with the heel of their foot and she doesn’t pay any mind to it , just looks up to the sky where she knows Mira is watching - and Duro, Aurelia, Varro, Mira , Onemaous - and everyone else - 

Every freed man and woman , be it shackles or thorns - they had perished bravely, the taste of freedom on their lips and it was more than enough - she raises her hands, dark clouds of grief twisting and turning inside of her but she raises her arms, and starts to dance. 

She doesn’t notice the tap on her shoulder, not until Naevia is there, eyes stone cold and warm and she nods, quietly and silently and it makes sense, for the two little wolves to dance once more. 

They hold hands, look up to the sky that is littered with dust and stars and they wonder at what Rome has in store for them - wonder if this will be the last time that they see each other, be able to laugh and jest and kill and hunt together - to call each other ‘Sister’ in foreign tongues , to protect and love and live.

They wonder, and it is a black grief that crawls up inside of them - they remember, the funeral pyre of not too long ago, with gladiatorial games held with the captured Roman fucks being the killing swine for them to slaughter - for honor, for their comrades. 

It is sacred ground that they stood on, watered by blood. 

And that, in itself, was a dance that they had mastered long ago - when the forests were young with auburn leaves and saplings slowly growing against the battering of the cold winter winds that screamed of ocean waters filled to the brim with fire that sailed across the sky.

They hold hands, and watch the stars fall - one by one. 

There is a quiet silence, a comfort of sorts - 

You are not alone. 

Iii.

Laeta, Kore and Sybil find them not too long, and they hold their hands as well and it is a small little quintet, but the hymn of the flutes and the tapping of the feet was hard to ignore - and that’s how it was , five little doves with wolf claws who danced to the beat of a drum that no one but the gods knew - or perhaps, 

they were saying good bye to old griefs and worries, while the stars quietly smiled down on them.

And they rose, again, when the winter winds howled and battered them down - they rose with the sound of a song that made them dance away the grief, made their blood boil, made the memories of their friends and comrades flicker like candle light but it was alright - they were not alone , for they had the stars to keep them company, 

And all of the world’s freedoms at the tip of their fingers, to grasp and hold onto and dance the night demons away.


End file.
